


The Game Ain't Over

by sapphireswimming



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Friendship, Gen, Gen Work, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Post-Newsies Rally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphireswimming/pseuds/sapphireswimming
Summary: Jack Kelly has abandoned them all and Davey doesn't want to listen to anyone dumb enough to think otherwise.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The Game Ain't Over

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12381964/1/The-Game-Ain-t-Over
> 
> Spoilers for the show through the Rally, rated K+ for canonical levels of swearing
> 
> Title from the card game _Five Crowns_

Katherine slammed open the door without so much as knocking, flinging it open until it banged against the far wall. Once she caught sight of Davey and realized that she'd found the right place, she barged into the green room, saying, "I have to talk to you."

Davey didn't even spare a glance in her direction, but kept pacing in a tight loop, his head held between tightly clenched hands as he tried not to lose it, tried not to break down completely because—

"Go away," he managed with only the faintest waiver in his voice.

"About Jack," she clarified.

And if she thought that would help her cause, she was sorely mistaken. Davey had had more than enough of Jack Kelly for several lifetimes over and he didn't think he could stomach anything she had to say to him about that traitor.

"I said _go away_ ," he growled, turning sharply from the corner he found himself boxed into. He plowed ahead again, heading straight for her, but she didn't turn to run like any of the newsies who had tried to stand in his way as he left the stage to take shelter— blow steam without exploding on anyone else, more like— in one of the dressing rooms in the heart of the theatre.

Davey kept stomping forward and Katherine did move, then, but to his dismay, it wasn't to escape but to barricade herself in the room. She swung the door closed and leaned up against it to prevent him opening it again and shoving her bodily back through.

"No, you have to listen to me," she said, eyes flashing.

He stopped a few feet away and stared at her, breathing heavily as he tried to contain the storm writhing within him, thundering through his chest and his arms and about to explode in a streak of lightning on whatever happened to be around when he couldn't contain it any longer.

Katherine stood her ground, staring defiantly up at him from the doorway.

"I don't—" he ground out, before stopping abruptly and turning again. "I don't wanna hear anything right now," he managed with every ounce of civility he had left inside him.

"Yeah?" she asked, jutting out her chin. "Well, that's too bad, because I'm not going anywhere until you listen."

He reached the end of the small room again, far too quickly, and when he was forced to turn back, he glared at Katherine with all the righteous anger burning inside him.

"What," he bit out, and the noise was dangerous in this closed space, but still, she made no sign of backing down until she'd had her say.

"He didn't do it for the money," she said, desperate for him to hear her.

"Uh huh," Davey nodded tightly, his voice high pitched and oddly strained. "Not listening," he said, trying to keep himself together as he started walking circles around the tight perimeter of the floor once more.

His eyes burned and he rubbed at them furiously with the heels of his hand, horrified that his body too, would betray him like this.

"No, I'm serious, Davey," Katherine said, learning forward from her place at the door. "Dave, listen to me," she implored. "He didn't— he was doing it to protect you. To protect all of you!"

"Yeah, well he had a funny way of showing it," Davey spat, wishing she would just disappear and leave him to lick his wounds in peace, "stabbing us in the back like that."

"No listen," she stretched her arms toward him, as if she could make the words sink into his head just by the sheer force. "There were about a hundred cops outside the playhouse tonight."

He glanced up at her, sharply, his bright eyes shining, and it was clear from the look on his face that he had had no clue, had seen nothing of this for himself as the rally got underway.

"They were sent out by the Chief of Police and had orders to arrest you—arrest every single one of you— if Jack didn't say what he said."

Dave stared at her wide-eyed, frozen in place.

Katherine could have sighed in relief at the fact that he was finally listening to her, but instead made sure she forced her point home. "The only thing that stopped that from happening, stopping every single one of you getting locked up in the Refuge, was Jack doing what he did."

Long moments passed, and Dave's hand gripped onto the makeup counter beside him in a white-knuckled grasp as if it was the only thing keeping him standing upright anymore.

Then he scoffed, and the spell was broken. Katherine's words seemed to dissolve into nothing in the darkness between them.

"Uh huh," Davey nodded, a bitter smile twisting his lips into an expression she had never seen from him. "And how do you know that, huh?" His hands started flying around him in tight jerky motions. "What he, he gave you an exclusive interview while he ran out the door—newsies strike leader turns scab, betrays his brothers, but not really, and read all about the true heart-felt story on page two?" he sneered.

Katherine opened her mouth to protest but he kept going, pushing off from the countertop while his hands clutched at his head again.

"Or is it that you, you, you're so head over heels for the guy that you can't see what he's done?" he asked wildly, one arm thrown out in her general direction. "That he's killed the strike?"

Katherine gaped at him, momentarily at a loss for words. Instead, she shook her head, but Davey was too wrapped up in his own head to see the denial.

He turned again, his face distorted with emotion as he paced relentlessly across the green room. "You think that because he's been the all high and mighty face of the newsies that he can do no wrong, or this must be part of some bigger plan? Is that it? Because let me tell you that _Jack Kelly_ couldn't even—"

Katherine had had enough of this. And she wasn't about to let Davey say things aloud that he would regret later when he knew the truth and understood the enormity of what had just happened on that stage.

"I was there!" she shot back, and Davey stopped dead in his tracks. "I was there," she said again, more quietly now that she'd broken through his rant to grab his attention. "I heard Jack and Pulitzer made the deal, okay? Jack talks and you all walk out of here. That was what they said."

Davey turned slowly and stared at her.

"How—" he choked out. "How do you know that?"

Katherine frowned. "Because… I was there," she said, again, more slowly and less heatedly this time. "I heard them talking."

Davey was shaking his head, looking like he was trying to solve an intricate equation in his head without knowing all of the variables. All the while, he stared at her like he'd never truly seen her before, and she had to fight not to bristle or squirm under the intense scrutiny.

It took several tries before Davey slowly broke the silence again. "No, I mean… you're a no-bit reporter-"

"Oh, thanks," she retorted.

"-with a story Pulitzer doesn't want out." He adjusted his stance, bracing himself and looking ready to absorb a couple solid punches before he asked, "So… how were you there to hear him?"

And suddenly, she realized why Davey was the brains behind the strike. Once she realized where this conversation had to inevitably go, she was unable to meet his eyes. They flickered to the ground before moving to her fingers, twisting where they were clasped in front of her.

This, more than anything else, confirmed that something else was going on here and that he wasn't going to like it.

"… Jack didn't tell you?" Katherine wryly asked the floor.

Davey stared hard at her. "What, you think we were making small talk while he was sticking the dagger in my back?" he spat back.

Katherine didn't reply.

"How do you know?" Davey demanded as he took a step forward, fists clenching at his sides. "How were you there?"

"Just…" she sighed heavily and looked up at him again. She realized she'd lost the right to ask him not to freak out at this fresh revelation, and Davey deserved better than that. He wasn't one to beat around bushes and neither was she.

Katherine took in a steadying breath. "Because Pulitzer is my father."

The look on Davey's face might have made her laugh under any other circumstances, but now she grimaced at the naked emotion that crossed it in quick succession, finally to be replaced by hurt and outrage and betrayal even fiercer than he'd shown when she first walked in.

He staggered back until he was leaning against a mirrored wall, and he stared at her, almost in disbelief, as he fumbled for words. "He's your—" Shaking hands wiped down his face. "You mean this whole time you were—"

"It's not like anything's changed," she said. "I go by Katherine Plumber because I don't want to be connected to my father. And I work for The Sun, for heaven's sake. I've been on your side, trying to run this story the whole time."

But Davey didn't seem to have heard a word of what she said, still stuck in the initial loop of shock at this too. "This whole time—" he breathed.

Katherine could have rolled her eyes. This was the exact same conversation she'd had last night. "Stop it," she snapped. "It's like I told Jack—"

Davey reeled, sliding back against the mirror as his head hit the wall with a loud _thunk_. "Jack?" he repeated, and he almost laughed. "Oh right, he knows… so the two of you were in on this together?" he asked incredulously, hands moving aimlessly in the air as he doesn't seem to know what to do. "What, you set this whole thing up to—"

"He found out last night," Katherine corrected. She sighed and started walking a loop around the room herself, hoping it would release some of her pent-up steam even though it didn't seem to have worked very well with Davey. "I thought my father had called me home for a lecture about trying to get the story in print even with—"

She caught a glimpse of Davey out of the corner of her eye, glaring at her with full force.

"But it was a set up," she said instead, switching tacks and focusing on the important part of the whole story anyway. "For Jack."

Davey blinked, confused, and Katherine leaned back against the wall.

"He walked in there so smug and sure of himself," she said, fingers at her temple as she remembered the sheer swagger in his voice that she knew must have been matched in his step, if only she'd been able to see him around the arms of the swivel chair. "By my father had collected all of his goons for the occasion. And me, and the Chief of Police, and Snyder."

"Snyder," Davey broke in. "You mean… The Refuge Snyder?"

"Yeah," Katherine confirmed. "And… Dave, it was bad. Snyder argued that since he was an escaped convict, the police had every right to get into the rally and arrest everyone who attended."

Davey didn't say anything.

"And… you know Jack," she pressed. "You know how he was ready to back down with just Crutchie in there. He wasn't going to let all of you get locked up." She watched him for a long moment before continuing gently, "He knew your family wouldn't be able to make it if you weren't out—"

"Hey," Davey pointed a shaking finger at her. "Don't you make this about me."

"Well, isn't it about you?" she asked, standing up straight and staring him down. "You and Les? And Specs and Mush and every single newsie out there?" She waved her hand past the still-closed doorway. "He knows what it's like in the Refuge and he wasn't going to let that happen to you. This was the only way he could make sure it didn't."

Davey was staring at her, but didn't say a word.

"He was backed into a corner and dealt a crap hand," Katherine admitted. "And he played it the best he could. But if he had known that he was going to have money shoved at him on stage in the middle of the rally, in front of all of you… how much do you want to bet he would have spit in my father's face and said to hell with all of them anyway?"

Davey worried his lip, not wanting to admit out loud that those sounded like bum odds.

"Heaven help us all, but he's trying to be smart," she said with a quiet laugh.

Davey grimaced but huffed a laugh all the same. "I guess we really are in trouble, then."

"Not if you get smart too," Katherine said, with a tilt of her head. "The strike isn't over… not by a long shot."

He looked at her for a long moment, then ran his hands down his face again. He took a deep breath, nodding sharply as he tried to pull himself together. "If you say so," he said, the corners of his lips starting to curl into the beginnings of a smile.

She beamed back at him. "I do."


End file.
